


Somniari

by LunarKitty



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-01 10:15:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11484270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunarKitty/pseuds/LunarKitty
Summary: Rhae'lyn Lavellan was once first to the Keeper Deshanna Istimaethoriel Lavellan, that was 3 years ago, now Rhae has ventured to Tevinter to find allies to stand against Solas.This fanfic picks up a month after the events of Trespasser DLC, with the Inquisition disbanded.





	1. Little Wolf

Silent steps fell against the dirt. A deft hand pulling a woolen cloak closed as the howling wind threatens to tear it away. A clearing before her, she froze in place. Heart beating in her chest, making it’s way up to her throat. Crouching, she examined a patch of scorched ground. A blade of grass flaking apart from the sheer presence of her hand. Her heart sank, sorrow causing her eyebrows to furrow. _ Is this all that’s left? _

 

She rose, stalwart, gazing out over the destruction. A sharp gust blew her hood off, but she remained unphased. Auburn wisps of hair danced in the breeze, happy to be free of their confinement. The full vallaslin of Sylaise gleamed on her face through her mass of freckles. She walked, feet heavier, legs refusing to obey their simple commands. 

 

After a few more steps, she planted an oaken staff firmly into the ground, a cedar branch twined around it. Her voice cracked as she began speaking, though her words were those of someone who had rehearsed. 

 

“An oaken staff to help you along your path, a cedar branch to scatter the ravens, Fear and Deceit.” She could feel herself choking on her own tongue. “I, Druid Rhae’lyn Lavellan, First to the Keeper Deshanna Istimaethoriel Lavellan, send you off. May you walk at Falon’Din’s side, but treat silently. I pray Fen’Harel never hears your steps. For we are the Dalish:keepers of the lost lore, walkers of the lonely path,” The tears she had kept stored behind her eyes flowed free. This was all that was left of her friends, her family; nothing. Her mouth tasted of iron, as if her tongue itself was made of blood. She should have been there; Cullen said his men would keep them safe. She remembered receiving the news. She remembered how she couldn’t bear to read any further, and yet, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the report. She remembered the crash of her knees into the wood floor as she fell to them. She should have been there, she was a druid, a natural mage, chosen by Sylaise to follow the Vir Atish’an, Blessed by Mythal, she should have been there. The thought ate her up inside, accompanied by the reality of the loss. 

 

The memories flooded back to her all at once, the memories she had repressed, kept hidden away, far from view, the memories of her heartache. She fell to her knees before the oaken staff. Staring at it’s base. She placed her hands to the dirt. An organic hand sat poised beside a Lyrium-infused prosthetic. Her eyes fluttered closed as she began to feel the earth beneath her grow. Power surging to and from her hands, being received and welcomed by the magics of the world itself. A tree began to sprout, to grow, rapidly.

 

“we are the last of the Elvhenan,” she muttered as the tree continued to grow, it’s thick roots twisting into the ground around her. It’s truck steading itself, it’s branches twirling in the air, as if the wind itself was their creator. “never again shall we submit.”

 

When she opened her eyes once again, she was met by a massive tree that sat steadfast behind the oaken staff.

  
  


A little over a month had passed since Rhae gave clan Lavellan their last rites.

 

The harsh Tevinter sun beat down on her head, illuminating it to a fiery gold. Her steps kicked up dust, leaving a plume of smoke behind her. An ebony cloak draped over her black and silver Keeper vestment. She couldn’t bring herself to ever changing out of it. She felt if she did, she was forsaking a piece of herself. Though the black did undoubtedly match her new setting. If anything, at least she wouldn’t stand out quite as much as she would have otherwise. Tevinter wasn’t the safest place for an elf, let alone one traveling by herself, but Rhae had more than enough confidence in her abilities to fly under the radar.  

 

Her left ear twitched, freezing her in her tracks. The dust settling behind her. She listened for a sign of anything, footsteps, chatter, anything. The distant creaking of wagon wheels riding over the occasional rock filled her ears. She wasn’t going to lie, she was a bit on edge. Pulling her hood closer to her face, she continued on. Her breaths as silent as she tried to make her steps. 

 

_ No problem, just keep your eyes down Rhae, they’ll just ride right by. Just act natural. _

 

Her humble staff easily passed as a walking stick, she had hoped to draw little attention in transit. A rustle came from the foliage that dotted the road, Rhae’s eyes darted to get a glimpse of what she  _ thought _ she saw. Her grip on her staff tightened, something in the air smelled sour. The sound of the wagon drew nearer and nearer until it was just passing her. She couldn’t help herself from looking at the splendour of the carriage; carrying nobility no doubt. Just as her eyes wandered however, the velvet curtain that covered the window jerked open. Rhae quickly averted her eyes back to the dirt in front of her, scared she caught the ire of the passenger. That’s all she needed, some Magister to find a Dalish wandering around outside Minrathous and decide he needed a new pet. She used to shy away from fighting altogether, a pacifist, but her time as The Inquisitor had forced her to make the hard decisions. Decisions that decided the fates of many, decisions that solidified the notion that the healer has the bloodiest hands. But not now, now she couldn’t just submit and let the ambition of others run her through. She didn’t want to fight, but Creators, will she. 

 

“You there” A deep, accented voice called. One which Rhea ignored. “Driver, halt”

The carriage rolled to a stop, though Rhea tried to hurry her pace along.

 

_ Please don’t get out of your carriage….  _

 

A set of feet dropped to the ground with a crunch, and she heard the steps draw closer to her. 

 

“You there, in the cloak, stop, this route was meant to be kept clear of travelers.”

 

A rough hand grabbed at her cloak, ripping it off. Just as he did, a handful of men sprung from the trees. The absence of the cloak gave her identity away almost immediately, tousled curls falling down from their sheathe, her vallaslin as plain as day. She spun the wooden staff, slamming it’s bottom into the ground, a show of readiness for battle. The man could be a Magister, and on top of that she had bandits to deal with. She took a step back, preparing for a fight. The man held up a hand, and the bandits froze in place, quite literally.  Suspended in time, or were they held up by something? Like a puppet’s strings? Rhea didn’t have time to contemplate as the man turned his eyes to her. 

 

“Ah, a Dalish … rare to find Wild Elves here, most would be smart enough to avoid the sight of the Imperium, but not you…” As he took a step further, Rhea took another back. She looked back to the bandits, and that’s when she saw the reality of the situation. It wasn’t a time spell, nor an ice one, the men were held in suspension by their very own blood betraying them. The man before her was a Maleficar. She hadn’t fought a proper blood mage before, let alone one that was most likely a Magister. 

 

“Fehendis lasa, come no further, do not force my hand, shemlin” Rhea narrowed her eyes, she tried to show no fear, but truthfully, she had no idea if she could even match a Magister power wise. No, that didn’t matter, she had a mission, she cannot forsake it before she even hit the city gates. 

 

“Oh, fiery, I will be the envy of the court, and I will enjoy breaking you.” The man carried no staff, yet he had no fear of casting. How curious. Rhea took another careful step back, holding her staff defensively. 

 

“Dirthara-ma” Rhea hissed before she began casting something unfamiliar to the Magister. Her hands and body swayed like the very wind itself over the ground, as if she was calling to the strength within it to help her. The very earth itself rose to her call, vines penetrated the rocky dirt and latched onto everything, wrapping themselves around the carriage, the driver, the Magister, pulling them down. The carriage breaking in half at the pressure, the unrelenting vines still trying to pull the carriage down into the earth. The Magister looked surprised for a second, undoubtedly unfamiliar with the magic, but that surprise washed away, being replaced instead by curiosity.

 

The vines around him singed off, falling to the ground with a thumb. Smoke trailing off of them.

 

“This will be fun” he remarked as he ran at her, hands blazing. 

 

One fist flew at her after another, each one readily blocked by her staff. Seeing an opening, her prosthetic hand palmed his chest. He took the opportunity to pull her close.

 

“I knew you would see it my way” 

 

The faint smile trailed from her lips as the hand pushed him back with an inordinate amount of force. The man was sent flying back, skidding across the dusty road. 

She stalked towards him,  ferocious eyes on the prize, so to say. One of the suspended men moved, obviously trying to fight the blood magic. His hood fell off and his features surprised her. Copper skin, hair as white as the snow of the frostbacks, and the only feature that mattered to her; pointed ears.

 

“Let us help” he managed struggle out. 

 

Rhea couldn’t let that happen, she couldn’t very well just send them to face this magister, they would be out of their league. She looked at him with sorrowful eyes before lightly shaking her head. Vines then came from the ground and grabbed them, slowly surrounding them. Encapsulating them in an orb of vines to protect them. Rhea returned her sight to the Magister who was regaining his footing. He clawed at his chest, feeling it stiffen. Rhea began casting something once more, the white haired elf looking on in curiosity as her lithe form was replaced by something monstrous. Legs sprouted and her body took on an arachnid form. 

 

The Magister was opening his shirt, desperately clawing at the buttons. That’s when he revealed what Rhea had done when she touched his chest, the area she did turned into wooden bark, and it was spreading outward. 

 

“What did you do to me?” He demanded an answer, the fury in his eyes was apparent. 

 

Her spider chatters was all that could be heard as she leapt onto him, the massive size of her body crashing him to the ground once more. All she had to do was get her fangs to rip out his neck. Gruesome, but it was the only thing she could think of. She felt her fangs stick into his chest, which was sorely not her mark. She did the only thing she could do, releasing whatever venom she had into him. With that though, a blast of fire sent her flying. It scorched her skin, and her pained cry echoed throughout the trees. 

 

She was on her back, all six of her legs trying desperately to flip her back over. That’s when a splitting pain emanating throughout her whole being. It felt as if her muscles were deteriorating and lava filled her veins. She rose into the air, suspended only by her blood. The sheer indescribable pain forced her out of her spider form. Her limp hovering body was the last thing the white haired man saw before the vines fully encased him, though it did not spare the whimpers that he heard.

 

“Who knew an Elven bitch would have some fight in her.” He wiped a thin trail of blood from his nose. 

 

“You’ll find we have a lot more than that” Her whole body began to turn to bark, the same affliction that plagued the man. But with that, his blood magic would be nullified.

She dropped from the air, falling to her feet. Unaware of how to deal with such a plague, the man became enveloped by it. It stuck his feet into the ground, like roots, and sprouted upwards, masking his face with nature. He had been reduced to a humble tree, right in the middle of the road. Rhea’s barkskin faded, and with it she called the vines back to the earth. The driver and carriage were freed, and so was the band of bandits. They were lightly rested upon the ground, freed from their natural cocoons. Rhae walked over and grabbed her staff and cloak from the ground. Giving it a good shake to get the dust off, Rhea tossed the cloak back over her shoulders effortlessly. 

She would leave the bandits to salvage whatever they could from the remains of the carriage, she was in no place to deny them that. She knows the reality of what her people face, and quite frankly, she is more than happy to help. She began walking down the road once more, unneeding the thanks she would’ve have received no doubt. She had a rendezvous with someone in Minrathous, and they probably were worried something had happened. Her trip to Wycome had left her off schedule. 

That’s when a hand on her shoulder turned her around. The face of the white haired man looked down at her, his eyes were filled with something she couldn’t put her finger on. It was a feeling in between curiosity and anger. 

 

“Inquisitor Lavellan.” Unsure if it was a question or a statement, Rhea cocked her head, surprised regardless the man knew of her.

 

“I used to go by that title, why do you ask, Lethallin?” 

 

“It’s about time you’ve arrived.” he remarked, and that’s when the gears began turning in her mind.

 

“Fenris?” 

 

“You’re two weeks late.”


	2. Chapter 2

Rhae’lyn looked over the company before her, they all were elves. Their faces bare, city elves? Slaves more likely. Fenris’ voice was low and gravely when he spoke. 

 

“I was told you were Dalish but… never .. how Dalish..” His green eyes descended upon her, looking her up and down. “I suppose blending in with the other slaves is out of the question.” The way his eyes looked her over was unnerving. Rhae couldn’t even put her finger on why, it just sent chills up her spine. Wait- what?

 

Rhae furrowed her brows at the man’s crude words. Her vallaslin gave her away without a doubt, no Magister would mistake her for one of their own slaves, but she did possess a workaround.

 

“If your concern is my ability to blend in, I can assure you that concern is misplaced.” She glared at him, did he know who he was talking to? She was Rhae’lyn Lavellan, and she would be damned if her power would be questioned now, after all she’s been through. 

 

“Youre saying I should take your word for it and trust you?” He sounded indignant, Rhae’lyn never met the man and had no idea what his inclination to be rude was.

 

“Are you implying you don’t trust me?”

 

“I don’t need to imply it, I dont trust your kind, and I don’t like you either, but what I want is moot.”

 

“If I’ve done anything to make you think that, I do apologize, but at a time like this we cannot afford petty squabbles.” 

 

Fenris just grumbled as he took off walking back towards the foliage covered trail they had sprung from. Rhae’lyn could tell already that he had a chip on his shoulder, though she couldn’t imagine why. Typical, even people she haven't met hate her. With a deep breath, she took it in stride, following the duo of hooded men that trailed him.

 

“You’re really a Dalish, then?” A gruff voice asked. Rhae turned to see who was speaking to her.  From what she saw under the hood, his eyes were hazel, and peered at her cautiously, but curiously. 

 

“No, she has face tattoos because she fancies them, aesthetic and all” another voice spoke, interjecting into the conversation. 

 

“Who knows, up until this point I hardly believed they even existed. Shoeless woodsmen who dance naked in the moonlight, it was never a very believable story.”

 

“I’m sorry if I do marginally less naked dancing than you were prepared for” Rhae remarked. She remembers hearing Dorian comment on it once before, it was beyond her how that rumor was started. Shemlen and their tales.  “But yes, I’m Dalish. Unless you planned on just calling me “Dalish” though, my name is Rhae’lyn.” A small smile spread across her lips. 

 

“Varion” the initially curious one replied. He shot her a playful wink under his hood, a section of jet black hair falling forward. 

 

“I’m Leras” the snarky one offered, looking back to make eye contact. 

 

“A pleasure” Rhae gave a slight bow of her head in acknowledgement. 

 

“A pleasure she says” Varion remarked in disbelief to Leras.

 

“That’s only because she hasn’t gotten to know you” He rolled his eyes, “she’ll regret that” 

“You’re just saying that because Fenris is here” Varion pouted and stuck his tongue out. He seemed so childish in that moment. How sad, Rhae thought to herself. These poor men have had their childhoods stolen from them. In servitude where they should be free to roam, chains where there should be flowers. Her mind fluttered momentarily back to clan Lavellan. A very distinct memory of the Keeper’s smiling wrinkled face as she accepted the flowers Rhae had picked. She had to be no older than six. The memory brought a bittersweet feeling. She mourned the loss, she always will, but at least she had the memories at all.

 

“No, i’m saying it because you’re a bastard, it doesn’t matter who’s here” Leras shrugged off Varion. Rhae wondered if they were brothers?

 

“How about you say that to my face”

 

“I just did?”  

 

She already had them pegged, Varion was the fiery one and Leras was the logical one.

 

A single, long, deep sigh escaped from Fenris’ lips.

 

“The two of you, enough.”

 

Fenris then left the beaten trail, throwing his sword down into a small hole that seemed to fit it perfectly. Without prompt, Varion and Leras tossed their weapons down into the pile as well. Fenris kneeled before the cache, covering it with leaves and branches. 

With a small gesture of her hand, Rhae had sent a bush springing up from the center of the cache, effectively covering it better than they had. To this, Fenris grumbled, her help unwanted. 

 

“I didn’t suppose you were bringing that with you?” Fenris motioned to the staff she still clung to. She wasn’t going to admit that she had forgotten about it for a moment there, but now the cache was already sealed. Rhae thought for a second.

 

“Of course not” she brushed off his comment and let go of her staff. Instead of crashing to the floor, it remained straight. She already began walking away from it by the time it had begun sprouting small branches and leaves. Her staff had effectively begun transforming into a sapling.

 

Fenris rolled his eyes, visibly unimpressed. Though his attitude put her off immensely, she wasn’t there for him, or his approval. She was there for one reason, and one reason only. Find allies to bring Solas to his senses. So she would continue to put on a smile, and put up with him. 

 

She began channeling a spell much like she did during the fight on the road, but instead of the form of a spider, her body shrunk and grew feathers. Before the three elves sat a small sparrow, hopping on the ground. Black eyes looked up at them curiously as a happy chirp lept from her beak. With a flutter, she was sitting on Fenris’ shoulder.  If he was going to have a chip on his shoulder, she might as well give him a reason.

 

“You look as if you don’t think this is an advantage” Leras leaned in, using an index finger to rub the top of Rhae’s head.

 

“Nonsense, I always think of the advantages of an avian comrade” Fenris grumbled as he turned to look at her. “Just-- just lay low, no poofing back into a human in the middle of the street, no magic out in public, just, find me later at the tavern at the west end. There’s only one, try not to die between now and then.” He put his finger next to her feet, allowing her to walk over and perch on it. 

 

With an understanding chirp, she took flight, disappearing into the sky. 

 

“She’s kind of cute-” Varion began but was immediately cut off by Fenris’ harsh “Don’t.”


End file.
